


Broke Down, Nothing Else Left (They Always Sounded Empty, Waiting to be Buried)

by StarsWithHiddenFires



Series: A Fake and Counterfeit Mask [6]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: (why am i like this I apologize), Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Numbness, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, it's not happy, mentions of an almost suicide attempt, procrastination ftw, self that is not a bad thing, sigh again there is no josh is sad tag, tyler is sad, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsWithHiddenFires/pseuds/StarsWithHiddenFires
Summary: His head lolled back.  Tyler stared at the smear of mosquito guts, the smear of mosquito blood and stolen blood.  His eyes were unfocused, body heavy, snot dripping down the back of his throat.The clock ticked away.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accidentallybroken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallybroken/gifts), [sepiapages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiapages/gifts).



> I'm sorry.  
> I'm horrible at responding, this is sort of an apology to you two (thank you for when we've talked, I really do enjoy it)  
> (I am sorry)  
> it's not proofread
> 
> It's kind of a continuation of the other one I did with Tyler, and set in the same "universe" as the josh-running thingy  
> take care, this isn't happy  
> [title from Lethargy//Glory by Bastille]

His head lolled back.  Tyler stared at the smear of mosquito guts, the smear of mosquito blood and stolen blood.  His eyes were unfocused, body heavy, snot dripping down the back of his throat. 

The clock ticked away.

It was too much to reach up and wipe away the brown-red smear, his arms tied down.

~~by exhaustion and apathy~~

It matched the pen mark from last year he didn’t wipe away.  It matched the coffee splash from yesterday morning he hadn’t cleaned.  It matched the splatter of his own blood from two weeks before he had left up.

The clock ticked away. 

His semi-finished essay sat in front of him, cursor blinking. 

The clock ticked away.

The deadline was sauntering up, hands in its pockets and unafraid, unhurried.  It was in no rush.  Some just thought it rushed because they lost track of time.  Not Tyler.

Tyler sat there, legs stretched out under the desk, and couldn’t bring himself to care.

The clock ticked away. 

Seconds marched by like ants, each carrying the weight of deadlines, the weight of tomorrow, the weight of the future on its back. 

Tyler blinked.

The clock ticked away.

His family went back and forth down the hall, skipping, stomping, walking, thudding, tripping.  Their voices echoed, bounced, whispered, travelled.

Tyler was frozen.

~~I kn o w m ys oul’ sf ree zin g~~

He didn’t care. 

The clock ticked away. 

He watched his phone screen light up, a text from Josh appearing above the many notifications from Instagram, from twitter, from people.  His hand stayed anchored above the ground.  Anchored above his piles of schoolwork, piles of notebooks, piles of music that he had started but hadn’t finished

_~~because what was the **p o i n t**~~ _

_~~a was te o f li fe of sp ace~~ _

_~~can’ td o an y thi ng wor th li vi ngf or~~ _

He knew when his mom came in to check in on him she would sigh, possibly leave with only adding a disappointed sigh to his soul.

~~only? It was the weight of the w o r l d~~

The clock ticked away.

It was more plausible that she’d ask about it, ask when he was going to clean the piles of mess up,

_~~you hatehatehate mess but can’t find the energy to pick it u p what a role model~~ _

                ask when he would write his thank-you notes from his birthday and when he would get around to returning the book he had bought but didn’t need because he wasn’t taking the SAT anymore and he was just a _d i s a p p o i n t m e n t._

Tyler breathed out.

The clock ticked away.

He lazily dragged his eyes back to the computer screen, essay in stasis. He was short two hundred, three hundred, four hundred? ~~~~

~~did it matter~~

                words, still had to connect the paragraphs, still had to proofread it. He still had an hour and ~~a half~~ fifteen minutes.

The clock ticked on.

His eyes rolled back to the smear of former buzzing life.  If he cared enough he would have shrugged. 

He didn’t.

He mindlessly rubbed his stomach, over his  ~~bloated filled overstuffed churning gut~~ shirt, gently tracing the lines he had lined it with just a few hours earlier.  The urge to grab his silver ~~~~~~harpoon~~ pen and write lines with red ink hovered in his head.  Tyler was petrified though--not terrified, but ossified.

The clock ticked on.

The light of his phone flashed again.  Tyler was dragged back from empty space, absolutely nothing to see Josh had texted him, again.  Something about track practice.  Something about the essay, how Tyler could finish it, finish strong.  The angle didn’t allow Tyler to read more. 

He didn’t move to see it better.

The clock ticked on.

His thoughts wandered out of the bliss of nothing to earlier that day, on his way to basketball practice.  There had been a point at a red light where he could have floored the gas, could have _yanked_ the steering wheel, could have smashed the car into a pole, ~~hopefully~~ could have ended it.  There had been no cars in the lane next to him for a bit, he could have done it. 

But then the thought of the _time_ , the _money_ , the _tears_ it would cause paused his hand.  Before his thoughts could resume tumbling, running, sliding, skidding down the slope of desperation, a car drove by in the next lane, the light turned green, and Tyler once again drove on.

He shoved the thought back into the cesspool of his mental basement.

The clock ticked on.

At one point, when a voice and echoing feet moved too close to his room for his comfort

~~you’re fine _wallowing_ in your apathy alone, but you don’t want your  _family_ to see how _rotten_ and _despicable_ you are, not just yet~~

                and Tyler quickly sat up and typed some on his document, actually getting in two paragraphs of work before the footsteps and voice were far enough away.  He checked his email, whishing he hadn’t the moment he saw the long march of unread emails, emails that he had to answer but that he _hadn’t_ , emails that he _couldn’t_ answer and whenever his mom would ask about them he would freeze up and want to curl into a ball and his chest would constrict and he couldn’t move couldn’t think anything except no no no couldn’t _breathe_ and the longer he put it off the tighter and sharper the bands around his neck and chest and stomach grew and he couldn’t he couldn’t and he knew he was leaving his friends

_~~like they’d want to be your friends anymore hAH can’t even talk to them~~ _

                _~~pathetic worm~~_

                hanging he was _shoving_ their proffered friendship and _spitting_ on it and saying it was _worthless_ with his actions but no that wasn’t what it was supposed to _be_

~~don ‘t lea ve m eha ngi ng I’ m co min gfo r yo u~~

(the clock ticked on)

                Tyler just knew that he was _worthless_ wasn’t worth their _time_ they were _wasting it on h i m_ please just leave him alone because he wasn’t interesting wasn’t worth it wasn’t talented wasn’t productive or good at conversation and didn’t ever answer back and would drop off of the face of the earth and fall away and

he

should

be

alone.

~~Alone is what I have alone is what protects me~~

He was brought back by a muscle in his shoulder cramping.  Tyler slowly lowered his shoulders, his hands, his arms.  He sat back again in the chair, defeated.  

His essay stared at him, looming.

The clock ticked on.

~~oh you check ed o ut ye ar sag o~~

~~wh at I’ ddo n ot to wor ryli ke you~~  

**Author's Note:**

> oops
> 
> but things will get better, I know.  
> (I know the night will turn to grey,  
> I know the stars will start to fade)
> 
> Stay Street  
> and  
> Stay Alive |-/


End file.
